


Spa Day

by silveradept



Series: The Dixon Hill Distractions [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Kissing, Other, Picard Just Wants To Read His Book, Q Just Wants Picard, Sitting Those Two Clowns Down To Talk About Feelings, Your Nudity Is Appreciated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/pseuds/silveradept
Summary: Picard is ready to tackle an unofficial novel obtained with a certain amount of effort. Q wants Picard to take a real vacation, and has booked a couples day at a (nearby?) spa for them.Despite their best efforts, Picard manages to relax and Q manages to confess.





	Spa Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TiaNaut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaNaut/gifts).



Picard settled in to the comfortable armchair, clicked on the reading light, and picked up his PADD. He was looking forward to spending the next few hours with a book he had spent a significant amount of time trying to source a copy of.

Technically, what he held in his hands was not a Dixon Hill novel, but a story where a well-known gentleman thief in the lineage of Arsène Lupin did their best to outwit Hixon Dill, a well-known private eye with a tendency toward using his fists first and thinking later. The original had referenced Dixon Hill by name, but a certain amount of expressed annoyance from the Dixon Hill estate at the portrayal of the character led to a hasty letter swap before publication and a self-imposed embargo by the publisher for normal Federation channels.

Will had managed to get a copy and keep it secret from him until his birthday celebration.

"You are the only Starfleet officer I know that uses their mandatory holodeck recreation time to read books," a very familiar voice narrated as its bearer flashed into existence.

"Hello, Q," Captain Picard said, trying to pack as much annoyance as possible into those words. "What form of reality-warping nonsense have you decided to torment us with for your own sadistic pleasure today?"

"Jean-Luc, that stings. Perhaps I will take my metaphorical interdimensional ball and go home."

Picard carefully kept his face neutral, even though being left alone to enjoy his book would be the absolute best result he could hope for out of this interaction.

"But since you asked..."

It was not befitting of a Starfleet captain to swear, Picard reminded himself. And Q would have found it "charmingly limited" or some other thing designed to provoke more of that reaction.

"Is this more of the trial of humanity? Has the continuum decided to set yet another test before us?" Picard asked.

"Absolutely not," Q replied. "This is one friend expressing concern for another's well-being."

Picard was willing to grant the theoretical possibility that Q might be concerned about anther being, but he wasn't sure he could go so far as to think of friendship as a thing Q could demonstrate.

Still, many encounters had told him that if he outright refused Q, they would escalate their behavior. When Rene had done this as a young boy, Picard had been able to teach him better behaviors. Q would be unlikely to listen to the same.

"And what do you think ails me?" Picard said. "Surely if I were sick, the doctors would nurse me back to health."

"Stop being such a stick in the mud, Jean-Luc," Q said. "You spend so much time pursuing cerebral things that you regularly forget there are more than enough pleasures of the body to appreciate."

"I do not need your help with my dating life," Picard replied. The last time Q had interrupted one of his novels, they had gone on a tour of pleasure houses and dating spaces before Q had taken on the role of a damsel in distress for Picard to save, without telling him this until well after they had kissed.

Q had been a surprisingly good kisser.

"Who said anything about dating?" Q said innocently. "You look extraordinarily stressed from your ordeal. You clearly need relaxation time."

Picard pointedly picked up his PADD.

" _Proper_ relaxation," Q continued. "Oh, I know what you need!"

Before Picard could decline, protest, or otherwise indicate how he had no interest in whatever it was Q was thinking of, Q snapped his fingers.

"Spa day!" Q said when Picard's eyes had cleared.

"Welcome to the Hideaway!" the receptionist said immediately after. "How many in your party?"

"Two," Q said at the same time Picard said "One."

To their credit, the receptionist only blinked and waited to see which number was correct.

"Jean-Luc," Q pouted. "I thought this would be perfect for you. No cares, no operations, no crises, just you and a staff that can pamper you to your heart's desire. Surely the book can wait?"

The book was not the point. The point was that he was somewhere in the universe that was not on his ship, away from his crew, and the only entity that could get him back had kidnapped him without consent and expected him to be fine with all of it. He said all of this to Q.

Q shrugged.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to put you back there in a hurry," he said. "I have been trying to get this appointment for years, so you can stay here and fume until I'm done or you can enjoy having your first full day off in years."

"I need to contact my crew," Picard insisted.

"To protect the privacy of all our guests, communication devices are not permitted in the spa area," the receptionist chirped cheerily. "Additionally, common telepathic and empathic frequencies have been overwritten with comforting music and nature sounds."

"Which reminds me," Q said, turning to the receptionist, pointedly ignoring Picard's glare. "Who do I talk to about changing my soundtrack? Right now, it seems stuck on Klingon courtship ritual, and broken pottery is not a relaxing sound."

Q and the receptionist chatted for some time about how to tune one's extra senses to the correct station. Apparently satisfied with the instructions, Q turned to Picard.

"Come along, Jean-Luc," he said, smiling. "I've booked us a couples massage for later, but right now I could use a steam." 

Picard crossed his arms over his chest.

"Or don't," Q said, snappishly. "But think about this, Jean-Luc. Do you think I would book us somewhere that had an easy way out?"

Q snapped his fingers and vanished.

Picard went to the (holographic, he realized as he got closer) receptionist and asked to place a subspace call to the Enterprise.

"The weather outside is currently interfering with off-planet communications," she said, cheerily delivering the news. "It will be several time cycles before communication is re-established. Why not take this time to enjoy our amenities? Your package includes all services available."

Realizing he would get nowhere with the receptionist outside of her pre-programmed responses, Picard thanked her. 

He was stuck. Just as Q had planned.

Well, perhaps he could get some exercise in. He asked the receptionist if there was a swimming pool on the grounds, and then the directions to get there. 

The changing room was empty. Picard carefully hung his uniform in the locker, set the lock, and then went to the decontamination booth that would then open into the pool area. The receptionist had told him that towels would be available for him as soon as he was finished with the process.

A chime sounded to indicate the start of the procedure. Soon after, a promotional audio track for the spa began to play, which he used as a means of keeping time until he could proceed. After the end chime, one final audio clip played.

"To protect all of our guests from possible contaminations, we remind you that after the cleaning process, all spa guests are forbidden from wearing clothing of any sort outside specifically designated areas. We thank you in advance for your nudity."

Picard was not amused at this turn of events. His lack of amusement deepened when it turned out that the receptionist had interpreted "swimming pool" to mean "relatively large hot tub," and that Q was already relaxing in said tub.

"Well, well," Q said, appraising him with a practiced eye. "I see what the fuss is about now. No wonder those junior officers always get tongue-tied around you."

Picard scowled in response.

"Oh, come off your high horse, Jean-Luc," Q goaded. "Even you cannot claim to be ignorant of the fact you have a very attractive physique. What would it take for you to relax and enjoy this experience?"

"A distinct lack of Q," Picard replied immediately.

"Oh, very well," Q said irritably and vanished.

Picard sighed. Q always brought out his worst aspects. Starship captains needed to be wise, decisive, and above all, patient when their crew were having difficulties. Q made him short-tempered and always seemed to have just the right thing to say (or do) to aggravate him further.

Q didn't understand that what he wanted the most was time to himself, where he could stop being a starship captain in uniform and just be someone who enjoyed detective novels, who got a small thrill out of playing the detective that never encountered a problem that fists, drinks, or guns couldn't solve.

It only took a few seconds for Picard to realize the humor of having those thoughts while naked and alone. He climbed into the hot tub, chuckling, and turned on the massage jets. Perhaps Q had understood him after all.

After a minute or two, the doors to the spa slid open and revealed a familiar face to Picard.

"Be—Doctor Crusher?"

This would be awkward, Picard thought. As glad as he would be to have another crew member around, Beverly and him had history, and nudity around those you had history with was rarely a good idea. His gaze drifted downward as he tried to figure out what to say and—

"—Q!"

"Jean-Luc?" 

Picard was unnerved at the accuracy of Q's imitation of Doctor Crusher's voice.

"I know it's you, Q," Picard persisted. "You've gotten the proportions wrong."

"You don't like what you see?"

"What I see looks like someone attempted to holo-paste the head of one of my crew onto the body of one of the dancers at the gentleman's club in 'The Long Dark Tunnel.' "

"I could have sworn you like busty women, Jean-Luc," Q-as-Crusher said, before flashing into the entirely proportional (and still entirely naked) form of Commander Riker.

"Perhaps you would be more interested in someone closer to your own rank?" Q asked in Riker's voice. "You should see the stories that get written about this coming to pass. Some of them are quite filthy."

"I am not interested in giving fodder for your fantasy life, Q," Picard said. 

"Oh, it's not my fantasy life you'd be enriching," Q said, changing into their most familiar form while teleporting into the tub next to Picard. "Your fanclub, on the other hand, would probably devote a special issue to you if you ever came on to Commander Riker."

Picard felt there was no good response to that statement, so he made no response.

"I do not appreciate being tricked, Q," he said after the silence has gone on long enough.

"If I didn't, you would never do anything remotely fun. Even Riker believed it, or he never would have asked for that horga'hn while you were on Risa."

"That, well, you know how that turned out, since Vash is part of the Continuum now, isn't she?" Picard accused.

"She is not, but she often speaks fondly of you, Jean-Luc," Q replied. "And look at you, being considerate and asking after the welfare of others. It's so cute that I'll pretend not to notice you're trying to change the subject."

"Cute?" Picard said, surprised.

"Well, of _course_ ," Q said, smiling. "Everything humans do is cute and endearing, but I meant you, specifically, Jean-Luc. When I compliment you, it's a genuine feeling."

Picard blinked. "You're not saying it to get a reaction out of me?"

"Of course I am," Q said. When Picard scowled, Q laughed. "I had hoped that I would get different reactions than that. Nevertheless, you've persisted in seeing me as a bratty teenager with more power than sense—"

"—Which you are—"

"—than as someone with a romantic or sexual interest in you. I kept trying to make it clear, but you can be so obtuse sometimes."

"This was your idea of a date?" Picard said, not entirely sure he wanted to believe it.

"Well...yes," Q said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I mean, I could have left you to companionable silence while you read, but that would have been boring. So I thought I would take you to the nearest clothes-prohibited spa and see if it wouldn't let you loosen up some, once you had to stop hiding behind your uniform."

Now that Picard had the right frame of reference, he could see how Q had believed this day was going to go and how Picard was supposed to have reacted to all of this. Except...

"You don't look like someone who is trying to take a person on a date," Picard said.

"That's your fault," Q said, smiling. "For as much as you think you've progressed, Jean-Luc, humans are still an appallingly limited species. The reason I look like this is because this is what you expect to see when confronted by something that has vastly more power than you. Since you've spent so much time married to Starfleet, rising through its ranks and taking orders, you fixed in your mind that great power resides in a man in a command uniform. You need to get out more. There are so many other ideas of what authority can look like."

"If you can read my perceptions, then," Picard asked, "why haven't you changed yourself into something I would find appealing?"

"Have you ever had sexual or romantic thoughts about me?" Q pointed out. "Have you ever thought 'My, that extradimensional being can be such an annoyance, but their Adonis-like figure must have quite the package?' Or even something as pedestrian as 'I will teach that Q a lesson by bending them over my knee and spanking them until they relent or they enjoy it too much.'?"

"No," Picard said firmly.

"Exactly," Q said. "I could go in and pull those thoughts from wherever you've locked them away, Jean-Luc, but I wanted a _challenge_ , and I I thought I would try to get those things by asking instead of rummaging around in your brain for them."

Something clicked in Picard's brain. "That's why—"

"—Yes," Q said excitedly. "Because _Dixon Hill_ , at least as you imagined him, knew what he wanted in a partner, and so I could provide that. It was rather satisfying, wasn't it?"

Picard smiled at the memory of dancing with and kissing the woman he had rescued from a not particularly brilliant or tough miscreant the last time Q had interrupted one of his Dixon Hill novels. That it had been Q the entire time had stayed in the back of his head, but it hadn't settled important enough at the time to object. He had given Q a lecture about honesty after Q had finally admitted that they were the woman.

"Yes," Picard admitted.

"Now that we've established that I can be thought of that way, what do you want, Jean-Luc? Not Dixon Hill, not the starship captain concerned about his crew or First Contact or the Prime Directive, but you, sitting here in a hot tub, completely naked and without expectations other than that you're going to have a good time?"

Picard's thoughts turned back to Beverly.

"Not her," Q said. "You already wasted that chance. Besides, she's a good woman to marry, but we're aiming lower than that. What would it take to get your blood rushing and your body interested?"

Picard remembered the vacation on Risa. There had been one being who had walked by after he had put the horg'an away that he briefly considered taking it back out for, but they had disappeared well after he made the decision.

"Oooh, hold that thought, Jean-Luc, and close your eyes."

Picard saw Q raise his fingers to snap and shut his eyes against the flash.

"Keep your eyes closed," Q said, their voice rich and melodic, before kissing Picard.

It felt hesitant to Picard, like someone who wasn't entirely sure that their crush wasn't going to throw them off immediately. It was a new thought for Picard that Q might not be supremely confident about everything. The thought of Q being vulnerable was certainly an interesting idea to study.

Q kissed him again, more confidently this time, and Picard returned the interest, keeping the picture of the Risa vacationer firmly in his mind. He wondered if Q had changed shape or was just feeding off the picture in his mind.

Before he could see the truth, though, a hand covered his eyes. "No peeking," Q said mischievously. "A Q has to keep some secrets, don't you think?"

Picard grumbled, but readily accepted another kiss. Q was getting more confident, and that was turning Picard on. This provoked a minor rebellion in Picard's head as to whether this was an appropriate thing to do.

"Relax, Jean-Luc," Q said. "You're off-duty, and we're both consenting adults." One of Q's hands gently fondled Picard's erection as they continued to kiss him.

The rebellion escalated to full-scale warfare. Picard pushed Q's hand away from him.

"Not on the first date," he mumbled between kisses.

"Oh, Jean-Luc, you're embarrassed," Q said. "Has it been a long time? I can assure you that what I felt didn't have any problems."

"Too fast," Picard said, breaking off the kiss. "You are going too fast," he said softly.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Q said, their voice back to the familiar, head laid on Picard's shoulder.

Picard nodded, opening his eyes to look at Q. "I don't want to feel like a conquest for you, Q. We don't have to do everything all at once."

"Fine," Q sighed. "Have it your way."

Picard put his arm around Q's shoulder and drew them in tight.

"It will take time, Q," he said. "Relationships are not things that you can snap your fingers and will into existence. They take effort and understanding and patience."

"None of which you associate with me," Q said.

Picard couldn't stifle the chuckle fast enough to prevent its escape.

"No, not now," he said. "Perhaps I will be able to in the future."

A chime sounded to alert them to their massage appointments. Picard was pleasantly surprised that it really was a massage, and Q behaved themselves, for the most part. It took Picard longer than he would have liked to make the connection between Q holding his hand and the seemingly endless parade of erotica that filled his head shortly after Q made contact. 

"I suppose it's time to be getting you back to your ship and your book," Q grumbled when they were finished. "Your crew is just about to discover that you're missing from the Enterprise."

Q snapped his fingers and the two of them were back in the holodeck study, just as they had left it.

"I'll be seeing you around, then, Jean-Luc," Q said, smiling and kissing him on the cheek. "You really are a remarkable human."

"Q," Picard said.

"What? No 'Thank you for the compliment, Q, you're quite remarkable as well'?"

" _Clothes_ ," Picard said flatly.

"Party pooper," Q said, before snapping his fingers and disappearing before the holodeck doors opened.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Commander Riker asked as he entered.

"Everything is f—," Picard started before looking down to see whether Q had actually clothed him before disappearing.

Q had provided clothing. It was command red, it had the Starfleet logo on it, and it would only have been considered "uniform" for a revue performer required to cover their genitals.

It was also the only thing he was wearing at the moment.

"Q!" he roared angrily.


End file.
